The Final Hunt
by Flanker87
Summary: It is the duty of the Inquisition to hunt down the enemies of Mankind no matter where they flee, but what if they flee the universe entirely? Following his enemy, Inquisitor Braeburn must bring his prey to heel before yet another galaxy burns in the flames of the warp
1. Chapter 1

Year: 1285 CE

Location: _End of the Road_ , unlicensed space station, Terminus Systems

The bar was rowdy and the patrons were drunk, a good sign for both patrons, owners and also those who wished to speak without being heard.

"You know the stories about ghost ships right? Treasure beyond belief just waiting for brave souls to claim it, or so they say." The human was short and twitchy, in more respected and law abiding space he would have been laughed out of any bar, if he was even allowed to land his rather dubious looking ship in the first place, but good information was hard to come by on the fringes of civilization and often the words of madmen changed the balance of power out here.

The Salarian he addressed, one Zerlan by name, had only agreed to meet out of pure desperation, out here debt collectors didn't send polite messages, rather they sent hitmen. Without some kind of major cash infusion soon, he and his crew would end up as an example to the next idiot willing to borrow from gangsters.

"Lack of evidence for this belief, unlikely to result in profitable salvage trip. More likely this is an attempt to get my vessel to an isolated area before selling our location to pirates, you will not receive payment for this information." He turned and began to slide out of the booth before the human even opened his mouth, only to hear a slightly drunken mumble "but I do have evidence, physical evidence. Meet me in 1 standard hour at _Golden Stallion_ , my ship. It's berthing bay 12, you can't miss her, she's the prettiest damn ship on the station."

Of course a human would be late, and of course a human would give his vessel such a false and frankly, ludicrous name. The _Golden Stallion_ was neither golden, nor was it much of a ship to be honest, even painted with garish yellow, it couldn't hide the older make of the vessel and the jury rigged repairs that kept the void from claiming it. "Over 1.25 standard hours has passed human, the evidence, hand it over." The salarian couldn't hide his impatience anymore, if this job didn't pan out then his time would be better spent fleeing this cluster entirely, preferably before bullets started flying.

"Now hold your horses, the ol' Stallion here needs time, especially pulling data from her memory cores, but I got both video and physical evidence here for you" he said with a grin, pulling out an old tablet style device, clearly obsolete, and in the other hand a chunk of unfamiliar metal. Giving off the Salarian equivalent of a sigh, he quickly passed his omnitool over the metal before freezing entirely, "report: material unknown". Within seconds the data passed to his ship, _Kalaheren_ and its Asari pilot. "Lisere, analysis is needed on this immediately. May represent potential payday, maybe enough to pay off our debt."

The lazy and what many would consider seductive, voice came back moments later "ship's computer has nothing on it, even after connecting with extranet. It's like nothing I've ever seen, has elements similar to steel, titanium along with some unknowns in it. Where in the name of the Goddess did you find this information?" The human's grin grew even wider, he already knew he had them hook, line, and sinker, a term neither aliens would be familiar with.

"If you think that's impressive, you and your lover girl there really need to watch this video, picked it up from one of my probes I left in the system." The screen flickered on, displaying nothing but the cold void and the pale lights from stars, a rather ordinary scene until something seemed to start tearing a hole. Lightning of all green and black hues and colors that had no name could be seen rippling and flowing as this crack widened, as he stared as this the Salarian's eyes started hurting and a headache began to assail him out of the blue. Something was coming out of that rip, it could only be a prow of some vessel and it was massive, ornate, baroque even. Before it fully emerged the hole seemed to simply snap shut, cleaving the prow clean off in a perfect cut. The vid cut off into dead silence, only to be broken by the Salarian "Where is it".

The human's grin by this point was bigger than a Krogan's; it's just beyond the Vallhalan Threshold, about a week's FTL travel coreward, deep space, now as far as payment goes I think tha…" The human's voice cut off rapidly as Zerlan emptied a pistol into his brainpan, no sense in letting him go and sell the information to competition now was there? Life was cheap out here, and another body in a back alley deal gone wrong was typical, especially if that body belonged to the newest upstart race in the galaxy.

Maximillian stirred from his command throne as yet another alarm sounded. How could this be happening? The gods themselves had whispered to him in his dream, had revealed their plans in the way blood fell from sacrificial victims, had shown him the path to future glories, had shown him the path to a new conquest and did he not deserve it? He was the Archon of the Blood Eagles, the terror of the Gallium Sector, allied with the fallen angels of a legion better left unnamed, commander of three great void ships which preyed on the fatted merchant vessels and frail worlds of the false emperor. Was commander of three vessels, the warp damned Inquisitor had seen to that already, sending the _Torment of Slaves_ to her death and handing _Blackest Night_ a fatal wound before she entered the portal. The favor of the gods was fickle indeed, he thought as lance fire washed over _Indomitable Wrath_ 's void shields. No matter, it was far too late for the Inquisitor and his precious navy to stop him, the gate had opened and the path was clear, a new galaxy lay before him and he intended to drown in blood.

A small flash and she was gone, right through that massive xenos artifact, and with her went a decade long hunt throughout the surrounding sector. The cogitator's screen cracked as Inquisitor Braeburn's fist hammered it

"This is unacceptable, completely and utterly unacceptable, prepare to follow them through I will not allow that arch heretic to escape the Emperor's justice." The ship's captain paled "Inquisitor, with all due respect usage of xenos technology is heresy! Not to mention we know not where that structure will take us." A bolt pistol seemed to materialize in front of the captain's face, "I will do whatever is necessary to defeat the enemies of the Imperium, even if it damns me to the depths of the warp. Inform Battlegroup Icarus that they are no longer needed, then you will take this ship through that structure or I will find a replacement who will, am I understood?"

The admiral watched as a flicker of witchlight indicated Inquisitor Braeburn's departure, a departure with one of his naval vessels under rather dubious claims of Inquisitorial authority. "Comms, inform the astropath I need to send a priority one message to the naval Inquisitorial attaché from my office." Seething, he quickly left the command deck, an Inquisitor who willingly used xenos technology did not fit the rumors and myths he knew of the Emperor's most holy Inquisition, perhaps this Braeburn's superiors would be most interested in his activities as of late.

One of the many millions of ice chunks that floated in the system's outer reaches suddenly shuddered as ancient machinery, dormant for tens of thousands of years activated. A faint signal was sent out, unceasing and unyielding, a warning cry to its creators that something had dared to use one of their tools, had dared to rise above their station and to use that which was not to be used.

The _Kalaheren_ flashed into deep space, finally exiting FTL to find their treasure, a treasure that was far more than they could have ever dreamed of. They were silent for moment, the shock of what they saw far outdid the grainy vid and chunk of hull they had seen. As usual, Lisere broke the silence "By the Goddess, if this is just a chunk of it, how big must the whole thing be, a kilometer? More?" It could certainly approach that size, perhaps more but that might take calculation better suited to the ship's computer.

"Not important, scan for survivors and tags. Have to make sure no one else can claim the wreck." What was to be done with survivors was left unsaid, both Zerlan and Lisere knew that out here in the fringe, life was cheap and having a gun to the back of your own head made the lives of others even cheaper.

"Negative on life signs, but get this some of the info I'm picking indicates that this ship was human, or at least humans were on its crew. Bodies are a mix of humans and what appears to be highly mutated humans, weird though, mutations aren't consistent with regular biology or mutations associated with humans."

Zerlan paused momentarily, this was unsettling and impossible. How could humans have constructed such a massive vessel, a vessel which didn't match any Alliance designs, and was fairly far away from normal Alliance operation areas and that wasn't even touching on the subject of the mutations. He had a dozen ideas as to why, all of the more disturbing than the last, either way this was the payday they were looking for and a potential political powder keg.

"Hey! Get this, that thing has absolutely no element zero in it! Not to mention, this ship is over five thousand years old. What the hell is going on out here?" A cold wave of uncertainly slowly crept down his spine as he met his worried pilots eyes. A broad shouldered Turian poked his head around the corner, a look of disdain crossing his face with the mention of humans.

"That's impossible, humans are brand new to space, this thing predates the formation of the Citadel Council. Not to mention that this is clearly a warship based on the guns and what appears to be battle damage. Why would anyone need guns that big?" A troublesome problem indeed, a human warship the likes of which has never been seen predating the galactic power structure with no element zero based technology. Silea, the aforementioned Turian, had the gleam of a treasure hunter in his eye, "Just imagine the kind of money we're could get for this, we could buy a moon with this kind of find. Also, Lisere there's a large flashing symbol on the screen, I take it that's a bad thing?"

With a jump, she turned back towards her display, "major power spikes all over the board unknown energies, somethings happening a couple thousand kilometers out. I'll bring in close to the wreck and we'll shut everything down, I don't think this is a friendly deep space storm." In the distance reality tore open in a screaming protest and the black hulk of the _Indomitable Wrath_ crawled forth, ready to reap souls in the names of foul gods and things better left unsaid.


	2. Chapter 2

The stars gleamed in the distance, no matter where one stood in the cosmos they retained that haughty cold light, as if they disdained any who gazed upon them.

"Have we arrived?"

A creature of black iron and brass, a former Magos who had seen the true potential of the warp, turned towards the source of the question with a whirr of cogs and blurt of scrapcode.

"Logic engines determine location has not changed. _Indomitable Wrath_ 's location remains the same. Incoming data: local star cluster too young, aberrations detected in location of celestial bodies. Suggestion: allow for data collection and analysis"

So they had done it, the gods had deemed him worthy after all to carry their standard beyond the eyes of mere mortals. Maximillian Voss was a very happy man, or at least as happy as a devoted could be off the field of battle.

"Comms, give me a status report"

"Sir!" A being that would be considered human at first glance, if not for the fangs jutting from his mouth and a forked tongue, saluted. "No local Imperial transmissions, though we are picking up tight beam laser transmissions. It appears to be some kind of buoy system, if we can get closer to the actual source we can collect more information."

"The _Blackest Night_ 's wreckage is completely dead sir, no signals coming out, nor did any lifepods jettison"

Maximillian decided to risk a glance into the Sea of Souls, even for one chosen by the gods it was by no means a safe place. Opening his mind he gazed forth onto what would be a nearly calm warp. While eddies and emotions still ran strong though portions of it, it was by no means the maelstrom that existed mere moments earlier. When he opened the way, there would be no resistance to the gods.

A glance towards the ruins of the _Blackest Night_ gave him a rather curious view he did not expect. A mere handful of xenos souls hiding just beyond the wreckage, interesting, the sensors hadn't detected their vessels at all. Perhaps a guide that the gods had granted them, a way to fresh slaves and sacrifices before the real work had even begun. A quick psychic tag on them would promise that.

Given any other warlord or priest of the warp, it was likely that _Kalaheren_ 's existence would have ended right there and then, either in a thunderous broadside or a fierce boarding action. Maximillian Voss was not any mere warlord of chaos, a mere warlord could never have spent decades outsmarting the Inquisition at every turn.

"Give the appearance of powering down the vessel and get whatever repairs that are needed done. Then we'll have a small hunt to conduct."

"I really really think that we should start going now. I really don't want to find out how effective those weapons are"

It was the first time Lisere had heard fear entering the Turian's voice. Normally he managed to keep his fears and doubts firmly in place both from military experience and a harsh life here in the Terminus.

A light started to flash, and for the first time since that monster had emerged, Lisere felt hope.

"Passive scanner is saying they just powered down their ship, looks like they're trying to repair some of that battle damage. Zerlan, I agree with Silea, we need to get out of here before they power back up."

Zerlan gave a slight tilt of the head. In a crew this tightknit, nothing else was needed to convey his agreement. Very slowly, using maneuvering thrusters alone, _Kalaheren_ began a long drift away from the wreck, appearing merely to be a piece of the ship drifting off.

 _ **Two weeks later**_

 _Location: End of the Road_

They'd only landed their ship when a rather angry looking band of Krogans had "arrested" them. Arrest at the _End of the Road_ meant one thing, you forgot to pay Paxton, and when you forgot to pay Paxton you mind end up being served to his Krogans unless you had a really good excuse.

"Let's hear it already"

No one quite knew how the diminutive Volus had gained control of the station, nor how he managed to keep the loyalty of his thugs; people who inquired too much into such matters had accidents, usually near the closest airlock.

Zerlan opened his mouth to speak, a story had already come to mind, one that would allow them to keep their heads but prevent Paxton from claiming the find. Well that was his intention until a certain Asari began to spill everything.

"We found something to pay you with, there's a massive ship out there, no owners, no survivors and it doesn't use mass effect based technology!"

If Paxton could have shown disbelief through the mask of his environmental suit he surely would have. The Krogan guards were on the verge of laughing, or at least making an expression that would pass as humor among the Krogan.

"You really expect me to believe in the stories that old spacers tell themselves? Ghost ships and monsters using technology no one's ever seen? What's next, will you try and sell me space whale oil?"

As Zerlan mentally prepared himself for what was likely to be a long and gruesome death, a human female quickly ran in and whispered something to Paxton. No doubt one his many "consorts" he was famous for collecting.

"I guess I'll have to delay your execution, it just may be that your "ghost ship" decided to come pay us a visit, I do hope they can afford the berthing fees. If not, we can always put it on your tab no? Why don't you come watch her come in, I wouldn't want you running off and fleeing the station now."

The warp spoor of the xenos had been easy to follow, a trail of fear, desperation and greed that the _Indomitable Wrath_ followed like a shark follows blood. The massive structures the xenos used to near instantaneously travel, Relays according to the data pilfered from a buoy, were interesting. There was nothing like them that any race, even the Eldar, had ever employed in the other universe. If they had stayed much longer he might have let the Magos try his hand at deconstructing it to learn exactly how it worked, but the hunt was afoot and the prey had finally gone to ground. A space station, unlike anything he had ever seen in Imperial space or the varied worlds within the Maelstrom. It appeared as a massive cross, with the "arms" appearing to be a mix of berthing stations and gun emplacements.

"This machine as located the biospoor of 1.2 million on the xenos construction. Spoor also includes humans, data unclear on how they came to exist here. Query: Request specimens for experimentation"

Maximillian smiled, not only slaves but with existence of humans there might be future warriors, or at least bullet shields to be claimed on that station.

"Begin target acquisition, merely cripple their ability to shoot back. Also, make sure a few of their shots manage to hit us, I'd like to see what kind of resistance this universe can offer. Summon Brother Geldon to the bridge."

Within a moments a post-human had arrived. Genetically and physically augmented to be a warrior without peer, standing at a little over 7 feet and clad in the thickest of armor, it was a sight to behold. The only thing more dangerous was one who had opened his eyes to the true gods, such an example stood before Maximillian now.

"My lord Archon, what is your will?"

Maximillian paused savoring the view, not many had the allegiance of these warriors and it had taken much sacrifice and bloodshed to convince them to serve a "mere mortal".

"Board the station with your brothers, hunt to your heart's desire, just leave enough to fill the slave holds."

"By your will"

The vessel had gracefully turned its side towards the station, as if performing some ballet.

"We're being targeted, kinetic shields are at full and the mass drivers are loaded. Permission to fire?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes! What are you waiting for?! Don't let them damage my station!"

While normally calm, when presented with a threat against his investments Paxton tended to lose his head, already he was calculating the lost profits from firing the guns and what kind of damage he might have to repair.

Accelerating a metal slug to several thousand kilometers per second, the _End of the Road_ 's defenses were more than enough to scare off pirates or even pirate hunters who might come calling. Scare off however, was the key word in this situation. These guns were neither top of the line models, nor were they well maintained, despite all the metal they spat forth none of it was enough to successfully overload the _Indomitable Wrath_ 's void shields.

"Sir, they're firing…a broadside?"

The gunner sounded confused as he should, who would fire broadsides in this day and age? What insane man would even consider mounting the ships main guns on the sides of any space faring vessel. The station's kinetic shields screamed as massive shells began to pummel them into submission. Moments later they collapsed, leaving the station wide open.

As Zerlan and his crew slowly crept towards to command room's exit, they could have sworn they smelled Paxton sweating.

"they're launching shuttles towards the station, should we surrender?"

The Volus seemed to wrestle very hard with the idea of giving away wealth to these strange pirates, but gave in, realizing at this moment it was the only solution. In the distance faint sounds could be heard, not unlike that of a drill.

"Unknown vessel, this is Station 1077B: _End of the Line_ , please list your demands"

Silence was the only response. As Paxton's nerves frayed even more, he slowly began to realize that not only was the crew of the _Kalaheren_ missing, so were his bodyguards. He stumbled towards the door, giving the fastest waddle he could towards his personal ship. He was thrown backwards as the door opened, his entire field of vision taken up by was looked like an iron shod leg. Funny, the leg was crushing his chest, but he couldn't feel anything, how odd was his final thought.

Incandescent light burned though the void as lance fire systematically destroyed and disabled the weapons that dotted the space station. While not as effective as his own, the enemy weapons, gathered in sufficient numbers may be enough to bring his ship to an early grave. No matter, the Brotherhood had already landed using boarding torpedoes and Blood Eagle warriors were launching their assault boats. The station was dead, it just hadn't realized it yet.

Sturlok, one of the few remaining station guards who hadn't fled, tried to form the rabble with him into a coherent firing line. Though the enemy was well trained, they didn't have kinetic shielding, making them easy targets to take down whenever they engaged. The real problem was the enemy weapons ignored kinetic shielding. When had man portable laser and energy weapons been developed? And how the hell did pirates get their hands on them?

Lasfire broke his concertation, punching a Batrian to the ground with a crack as air was instantly vaporized along the laser's path.

"Return fire idiots! I'll get us some support from Nurgon's group, hold tight"

"Nurgon, there's a good fight here and they're getting to close to our ticket out of here, we need some support!"

The line stayed silent

A sudden roar filled the air, the kinetic shielding of one of the few humans defending collapsed. A second roar signaled the human's death as he appeared to simply explode after being hit. Other roars were heard, each signaling an imminent death for a defender and resulting in a cheer from the attackers.

Before long, Sturlok was the only one remaining and thus, witnessed those who broke his last ditch defense. They were massive, slightly taller than he was, clad in some kind of motorized or power armor. Skulls and freshly gathered heads dangled from long chains strung at their waists, as the creatures turned towards him, he recognized Nurgon's head dangling from one such chain.

Maximillian was pleasantly pleased as reports began to flood back in. Prisoners had been taken from every major xenos race on the station, causalities were light, and Brother Geldon had indicated great pleasure in fighting a particularly war like xenos, even managing to capture a specimen for the Magos.

A few vessels had managed to escape, but it was no matter, they would spread fear and terror with every passing system. A fear and terror that would rile the placid warp and create the conditions necessary for the ritual to occur. Things were going as planned, though a small feeling at the back of his head made him feel uneasy, as if he was being warned. He needed to meditate, perhaps the Changer of Ways would enlighten him to the nature of this feeling.

Location: _Minos Wasteland_ , Sector Outskirts

The Turian patrol group halted. Their sensors had indicated some energy fluctuations were occurring out here, anything that could threaten Turian economic interest in the sector needed to be dealt with and fast. They never could expected anything like this.

The portal of writhing energy closed, leaving that _thing_ , in its place. With engines at maximum, the Turians did the unexpected, they fled. This had to be reported to the Council, they were not equipped for viable first contact, especially not with _that_. More importantly, they need to begin preparing the mining corporations for a potential evacuation given that what came through that portal was clearly a warship.

Inquisitor Braeburn stood up, the transition had not been easy. Crewmen law scattered over the deck, the astropaths had all died the instant they entered the xenos portal, and now the logic engines and cogitators were spitting out nonsense about no Imperial signals.

"Where in the name of the Emperor are we?"


	3. Chapter 3

_Alright, so based on some the reviews I'm going to try and make transition scenes a little less jumbled and try to prevent too much viewpoint jumping around in a chapter. I do appreciate the reviews and thanks for reading!_

Location: Citadel

Time: 6 weeks after the first appearance of unknown ships

It's common knowledge that the Citadel Council represents one of the largest concentrations of power in the galaxy. Each member the ambassador for a galactic superpower, a delicate balance that kept the galaxy mostly stable since the end of the Rachni and Krogan Wars.

What the general public didn't know was that most of the Council's important decisions and lines of investigation were conducted behind the scenes. Various groups dedicated to intelligence gathering, military responses, and how to deal with first contacts among others. Forums on the extranet hinted at a shadow government, insinuating that the Council was nothing more than a trio of puppets dancing to the tune of darkened unmarked meeting rooms in the Citadel. For the most part, they were right.

The room had been darkened and soundproofed, no matter who went in here, no one outside would be able to see nor hear them. While some might be uncomfortable with the concept of these "shadow councils", it was in the interest of galactic peace. Interstellar war was far too bloody and far too expensive to be left to the whims of the politicians.

"Any new reports to add?"

"Yes, we've had an update on Incident 00X. Firstly, we've successfully been able to find a way to track it, the ship gives off intense energy readings before activating and deactivating their FTL drive. There's nothing else like it out there, so our VI systems are able to give passable predictions as to where they'll arrive next. We're estimating an 89.5% chance that it'll stay in the Terminus Systems when it reemerges. We've also managed to slow down the spread of the "Station Attack" extranet vid, but we can't get rid of it entirely.

"Good. You're certain it's not headed for Council Space? We can't afford another "Sovereign Incident" without significant damage to the image of Council power."

"As sure as we can be."

"And the second ship? Where is it?"

"They jumped halfway across the galaxy, the Satent System. There's good news though, we had an STG team out there gathering information on a major pirate operation. Mostly Batarians, targeting human colonies in the Attican Traverse, they were well equipped with various ships the Batarian Navy "lost".

"were?"

"The STG team sent a video of what happened, according to their latest report, the vessel is still in-system."

"Put it on the screen, lets see what the new neighbors are capable of"

The STG ship floated silently through the system, cameras and sensors focused on the new arrival. Normally present simply to monitor and report on varied pirate threats, today a strange ship of unknown design and origin had arrived, and it was making straight for the pirates. What were they doing here? As always, STG prepared to collect as much data as they could in their memory banks, after all, knowledge was power.

"Praise be unto you immortal God-Emperor, we thank you once more for safe guidance through the warp."

The inquisitor rose, making the sign of the Aquila as he did. Their ship had safely arrived and the navigator's test was complete. When they had first gone through the portal the navigator claimed he could no longer see the blessed light of the Astronomican, the sacred psychic light that allows the mighty vessels of the Imperium safe guidance though the warp. However, he had also noted to the inquisitor, that the warp was not quite the same. It was nearly calm with none of the sentient malevolence it normally displayed. He had been confident that it could be navigated in this state even without the Emperor's light and begged to undergo a test run. The test had worked beyond expectations, sensors indicated that they had come out just beyond the galactic core. Of course, the ramifications that were represented by the Emperor's holy beacon missing were too horrific to consider.

More concerning however, was the flotilla of ships forming up around what appeared to be an asteroid in the orbit of the 4th planet. While none of the vessels was nearly as large as _Armageddon's Blade_ , a Lunar class vessel nearly 5km long, he had heard of battleships and even fleets taken down by a smaller number of attackers.

Already the Captain was bringing the ship to general quarters, standard procedure in the Imperium for contact with unknown vessels. Void shields began to shimmer, energy coils for the port and starboard lance arrays glowed with energy, conveyor belts began to move shells to their respective guns; the ship prepared for a potentially hostile encounter. A lone crewman stood ramrod straight as he turned towards the command throne.

"Sir, incoming transmission. It's xenos for certain. The translators were able to read it"

Normally such a transmission would have been disregarded, such was the Imperium's thoughts on the value of enemy taunts and begging, but this was not a normal situation. Lost alone in a familiar yet unknown galaxy, and more importantly, with an inquisitor dictating the ship's mission, normal procedure had to be disregarded, for the time being.

"Patch it through, let's see who or what we're going to be dealing with."

The alien that appeared on the monitor was in short, ugly. Four eyes, multiple overlapping nostrils, and a ridged head; the tone of voice it took was that of indignation.

"Look, I don't know who you are, but the rules remain the same. You need an appointment to buy here, so I suggest you scram. Also, tell whoever you're working for that silly little tricks with your mass effect field to make yourselves look bigger don't work with us"

A warning shot followed. Firing at a vessel carrying a member of the Inquisition is tantamount to a death sentence. If the pirates had known this, they would have laughed, for this galaxy the inquisition was a trivia tidbit of human history, barely worth noting.

"Captain, cleanse them from the stars"

"As you will Inquisitor"

The _Armageddon's Blade_ shuddered forward as plasma drives spun up. Gun crews and their targeting servitors began to lock on to targets as the enemy flotilla advanced to meet them. The first wave of enemy fire crashed into the void shields, each slug causing a ripple of energy as they detonated. This was followed by a second and third wave as the "lost" cruisers, formerly of the Batarian Navy, unleashed their mass driver cannons.

"Captain, void shields approaching overload state. We can take one more volley before they're gone."

"Very well, return fire"

The inky blackness of space was illuminated for the briefest of seconds. Blue-white lance beams struck forth like the fingers of the Emperor himself, each seeking a different foe. Kinetic shields were hopeless to stop energy weapons, and the ablative armor resisted for only a moment. Two frigates were gutted bow to stern, the ravenous beam punching clean through them. A cruiser took a glancing blow, avoiding a coup de grace, but still losing one of her engines in the process. The fourth beam missed entirely, owed to the skill of a paranoid captain and a responsive crew.

"Void shields overloaded, tech-priests are attempting to get them back online"

The next wave of shots tore armor plating from the ship, one even penetrating into the ship proper leaving a trail of bodies and venting atmosphere behind it. At this point maneuvering jets fired, spinning the ship on its horizontal axis, leaving the main body of the ship open to enemy fire. Presenting your broadside to an enemy's mass driver firing line was considered suicide by any sane commander, whether they be Human, Turian, or Batarian. Perhaps this is what gave the pirates a brief pause in their fire or perhaps it was now because they faced a wall of cannons.

If sound waves traveled in space, everyone aboard the _Armageddon's Blade_ would have been deafened when her broadsides fired. Shells spat forth overloading kinetic shields, crashing into engineering decks, detonating in the void between ships. It was a massacre, nearly every ship in a group that could have fought an alliance strike force off was either destroyed or dying. The cruiser that had survived, only did so thanks to a damaged engine, the same injury now prevented her from fleeing from the angry and vengeful ship.

An instant later, a second lance strike sung out into the night, unlike earlier it did not miss. In a twist of supreme irony, it burned straight to the command deck, managing to consume the ship's captain, the captain who had so skillfully avoided it before.

"So that's it, they manage to wipe out a major pirate band with no real damage to themselves. A single ship managed to do that. Can we kill it?"

"Not without politically unacceptable losses. I suspect that ship has the capacity to annihilate several colonies and fleets before we take it down."

"Damn. What happened to all the slaves in the asteroid?"

"They were freed. According to the STG team the crew of that second vessel is human, more so than that of the first vessel. The good news is that they seem to be somewhat less barbaric than the first ship."

Nervous fingers beat a tempo and teeth began to grind.

"Prepare a first contact team. We'll need a human in there too, guess we have to bring the Alliance in on this now."


	4. Chapter 4

**Location: Citadel**

Ever since his "promotion" to Admiral and military attaché for the Alliance, Anderson's life had turned into a slog of government paperwork, meetings with long winded diplomats, and the political maneuvering and backstabbing that seemed to be a feature of life on the Citadel. To make matters worse, now he was summoned to some Council subcommittee meeting, one he'd never heard of: The Special Advising Committee. In some ways he was a little happy, there was no Udina at this meeting to put on his whining act and complain about colonization efforts in the Traverse, nor was there any major scandals caused by his operatives that he would need to answer for. As far as days on the Citadel went, this was actually relaxed.

The elevator doors dinged softly as they opened. Sub level 4 was a rather interesting place for a council subcommittee to meet; it either indicated that they were utterly unimportant or that they were far more important than they let on. Three black armored figures with no insignia waited for him; interesting, C-Sec wasn't pulling security here.

"Admiral, before we allow you entry we require a DNA sample to verify your identity. Please holdout your hand, there will be a slight pinch."

This created even more questions in Anderson's mind. DNA evidence required for entry? Even the Council didn't require that, even for personal meetings. The omni-tool quickly confirmed that Anderson was who he claimed to be, the door slid open and a dark room awaited.

A single chair sat in the center of the room, and there didn't appear to anyone else here. Was he early? No, why would the guards let him in then, perhaps it was a vid call or holographic meeting, why was he required to come in person then? Either way, the sooner this was done with, the happier he would be; this reeked of espionage and special operations.

The door sealed shut.

"Ahh Admiral Anderson, so glad you could join us, please take a seat."

As Anderson sat down he realized the voice wasn't even coming from a screen or projector, rather it was a simple speaker system.

"We apologize for not meeting you in person, but this committee operates with a bit of secrecy. We do have a good reason for it; you could consider us to be the "information providers" for the Council and various Spectre operations, it's made us quite a few enemies on all sides."

"Alright, so why did you call me here?"

"Patience my good admiral, we'll get to that, but first a quick question. What would you say if we claimed humanity had built a dreadnaught 5km long?"

Anderson paused, the mere idea of a ship that big was absurd; none of council races had shipyards even capable of building something like that.

"That's ridiculous, it violates the Treaty of Farixen, not to mention, the Alliance doesn't have the ability to build a ship like that. Hell, no one has the ability to build a ship like that."

"What about a ship 7km long? Also, I don't believe I mentioned anything about the Alliance."

Anderson's response died in his throat as two images appeared, massive vessels floating in space. They were clearly designed by the same civilization, yet clearly different somehow.

"What are they? Where did they come from?"

"It's good that you ask that Admiral, because you're going to find out. The task is simple, pick a few of your operatives and make first contact. Oh don't make that face, there's a team from the Asari, Salarians, and Turians going with you. Oh and before you ask, no, no spectres, the Asari team already have that covered."

They were far more direct and blunt than the Council ever was about handing out orders, clearly not politicians then, this was starting to stink almost as bad as the Sovereign incident.

"Why are you including the Systems Alliance in this operation? Our first contact history hasn't been the cleanest."

"Didn't I mention it already? The people on board are human; perhaps they'd like to see a friendly face? Now time's wasting Admiral, get a team and a ship, once you have everything we'll give you coordinates of where you need to be."

Anderson wasn't happy, in his experience low information ops meant a disaster was right around the corner.

* * *

That had been rather refreshing. Most humans would have been trying to ask questions for hours or making absurd accusations about the innocence of the Alliance in this issue. It was a good thing Anderson had been assigned to the Citadel, getting Udina or the Alliance's pet Spectre to agree to this would have required a lot more strong-arming and blackmail. Her personal VI chirped, a message from one of the recon teams assigned to find and monitor Ship 1.

"Ship 1 has entered Ondeste System, appears to be headed for Zesmeni. Suspect they plan to raid or invade the Asari colony there."

While she held no love for her fellow Asari, this was a problem, another major attack and the Committee wouldn't be able to hide these ships for much longer. Council space simply wasn't ready to take those ships on.

"Send a message to other Committee members, we need to meet as soon as possible. Inform the recon team to destroy the system's relay buoy, no information can leave that system"

At least this attack might give them more insight into the new enemy's methods, a price certainly worth sacrificing some lives for.

* * *

 **Location: Zesmeni, Colony Outskirts**

 **Local Time: 28:00 Hours**

When the ship had first appeared in system, it was presumed to be simply commercial vessel. As it declined to respond to hails, the Asari community prepared their contingency measures. Living on the edge of the Terminus Systems meant that they had fought off their fair share of pirates and raiders before. A strong militia and a willingness to fight back was usually more than sufficient to convince the galaxy's scum to go look for easier pickings. That would not work today.

Maximillian was no master strategist who led from his ship. He was a warlord and he led from the front. He was a holy priest of the gods, and their temple of choice was the battlefield, where else could one find blood to appease Khorne, the sensations of pain that sung to Slaanesh, the rot and stagnation of corpses that made Father Nurgle chortle, or the bold outmaneuvering and traps that pleased Tzeentch? They had called him here, this planet was the first, the first to sing its song of pain to open the warp of this universe to his masters.

His troops advanced silently, approaching the colony in the dead of night. While yet unseen, he knew the defenders were aware of the impending doom that awaited them. It was time to bring down the sky on their heads.

"Artillery, begin fire mission"

The first shell hammered into a residential building, obliterating several apartments. Had they been occupied, the residents would have been shredded by concussive force and shrapnel. The tempo of incoming shells began to increase as gunners found their range, beginning an advancing barrage. It wouldn't kill any defending troops, but it would occupy them and force them to keep their heads down.

A staggered line of humans and mutants burst forward towards the slim Asari structures. They were met with a wave of fire emerging from dug in defenders. The advance shuddered to a halt as the bodies began to pile up. Lines of lasfire and autogun rounds spat towards the enemy positons, but without the ability to close in on them, it was a hopeless endeavor.

A stalemate was unacceptable, Maximillian reached into the warp quickly finding the defender's unprotected minds. He issued a single command with as much force as he was able

"Stand"

With a start, several Asari stood up for moment, they didn't quite realize why, nor would they as multiple beams of lasfire impaled them. The advance continued into the colony proper. Here and there firefights would break out as the militia began to fall back to the bunker that shielded the civilian population. With their defensive line broken, they were at risk of being flanked and surrounded. Maximillian smelled a desperate last stand approaching.

The bunker's automated turrets and the remaining defenders spat death as the forces of Chaos leapfrogged from cover to cover. Krak missiles detonated against the kinetic shields, overloading them with continuous fire until they burst in a loud pop.

It was time. Maximillian jumped out of cover, letting the enemy see him for the first time. Clad in baroque power armor, a power axe in hand, he led the final charge. The enemy was not yet defeated and his armor sparked as enemy fire impacted it, the men next to him were cut down, but then they were on them. The bunker's door resisted his axe for a few moments before he carved through it revealing a panicking defense force. The first xenos' shield popped as his axe broke it, her armor afforded her even less protection as he effortlessly sank his axe into her ribcage. The next attempted to surrender; he took her head in a single blow.

As the smoke cleared, he realized the battle was done. The defenders were dead and now the real work was to begin.

"Bring down earthmovers from the ship, prepare a proper temple for the sacrifice to come."

Men scrambled over each other to fulfill their lord's will. The bunker's internal door was forced opened, revealing a scared group of Asari of all ages, a sacrifice.

Today was a good day Maximillian thought as the screaming began.


End file.
